


late nights.

by KingLear



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Dirk being Dirk, Incest, M/M, OR IS IT, dun dun dunnnnn, gay bros being thickos, its all in dirks head tbh, me despairing into my rarepair hell, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 13:42:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6522115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingLear/pseuds/KingLear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk and his bro.</p>
            </blockquote>





	late nights.

Dirk sat at his computer alone, staring unblinkingly at the computer. The clock read 4:13 am and his eyes were crying to shut. Bro had persistently come downstairs over the course of the past few hours in an effort to get him to bed but he'd stubbornly said no each time. He knew it was wrong to get mad at Dean but... he couldn't help it. Maybe it was his angsty teenage daddy issues coming out in the midst of the early morning but he felt strong in his conviction to not lie down next to his lover? brother? Even though Dean rarely came home anymore. 

But of course that was the crux of the issue. Dean never came home anymore, always too busy with work and if not work then parties and if not parties then with interviews and if not that then anything else. It felt like a drawn out end to their relationship and Dirk couldn't say anything because he still wanted to be with Dean but what use was being together with the person he cared about the most if they didn't want to be there? 

He knew that of course but in his selfish heart he'd still wanted to clutch Dean with the same greedy fists of the eight year old Dirk, confused and distraught the first time Dean had come late at night, his booze breath stinking up the air around him. Dirk had gagged and wanted to puke but he'd clambered onto the lap of his brother as he'd handed him a glass of water. 

Dean had drunkenly said, "I loeeeeev you, kiddoooooo. Am sorreh, hehe, for bein a disappoent. A disapent. A dispointment." Then he'd promptly been knocked the fuck out. Dirk was too young and his body too small to carry the weight of his big bro back to their shared bed but he'd left for his room, clamped his fingers around the warmest blanket and tucked them around his brother and himself. The morning of hangovers and headaches was filled with awkward silences and bacon grilling on the pan as Dean tried to ignore the inevitability of the conversation that they both needed to have. 

"Dirk." Dean had called out, embarrassed. 

"What." Dirk replied, glancing once at Dean before resuming his colouring of horses and puppets, the rainbow colours meshing together like a giant gay vomit. 

"I'm. Uh. Sorry for last night. It won't happen again." Dean busied his hands on with the dishes from the night before.

"It's okay." Dirk replied, again, as if the sight of Dean coming home staggering drunk because of the plight of his failures was a natural and daily occurrence. 

"The milk's run out" Dean had nervously added, knowing that Dirk didn't really eat meat for breakfast like him but he'd already spent his monthly money on alcohol and club nights.

"It's alright." Dirk reinforced, this time not bothering to look at his apologetic and forgetful big brother.

The same conversation was played out in different variations over the next few years until Rose had finally knocked Dave on his ass about his alcoholism and he'd gotten his first big break in Hollywood as a director. Of course, now instead of the excuses with alcohol and late nights, it was now work and late nights. Work. Work. Dirk cleared his throat, his eyes glistening. Shaking his head, he wrapped the blankets around himself tighter.

He hadn't told anyone about the love that he had for his brother. The love that was the type of shit homophobic extreme Republicans write on their cardboard signs, the highest tier of gayness that Dirk was able to achieve. Because, yes, he totally loves his brother in a non-platonic way because you know that's how the fuck Di brotherfucking Stri rolls. It was like being in love with a fucking cactus, an ironic cactus that occasionally lost it's thorns for about 2.5 seconds at once every blue moon before reapplying them back and piercing his dick and balls at once. He was pretty sure Rose and Roxy knew anyways. 

He'd never be able to tell Jane and Jake, because as loving friends as they were, they were also quite blissfully unaware of how fucked up™ Dirk was. He'd willingly allow for them to retain their obliviousness forever if he could. Aside from Rose and Roxy, who were practically his family, Jane and Jake were the only friends who willingly were his friends and not out of some desperate pity or some shit. Once he'd went three weeks without speaking to anyone, only communicating through pesterchum; his last form of "actual" communication being with his brother.

Dirk rocked himself back and forth on his chair like a crazy person, shaking his leg as he did so. He blinked once twice and reluctantly resigned himself to finally heading to bed for that night and facing the elephant in the room when he'd got there. He re-wrapped his blanket around himself, burrito-style, before trudging quietly through the stairs and hallways, his feet stuttered to a hesitant stop as he stood before their room. Breathing in a deep breath, he opened the door and looked up in surprise when he realised that his brother had already fallen asleep, his shades perched shoddily on his face, fingers still clenched around his phone.

Dean was waiting up for him. Huh. Dirk thought. Blinked once, blinked twice. He shuffled to Dean's side of the bed and wriggled his right hand out of his warm burrito blanket to tuck his brother's shades onto the sidetable. He'd gently removed Dean's grip on the phone and placed it next to the shades before shuffling to his side of the bed. He climbed on the bed, facing away from Dean and clutching the edge of the bed. 

He shut his eyes and unconsciously tensed his body up when Dean rolled over to his side, placing his warm arm around Dirk's chest, crotch to ass and all, you know. Dirk moved to peel Dean's arm around his chest, cheeks and body heating up but Dean refused to let go, only snuggling further into Dirk, his nose tucked into Dirk's ungelled hair. "Smells good." Dean muttered out, tightening his grip around Dirk. 

Dirk could hardly breathe, biting onto his lip so hard that he could taste the blood. 

"Love you, baby. Sleep tight." Dean murmured into his hair. 

Dirk shut his eyes tightly

**Author's Note:**

> i love dirkangst. this was written at like 2 am in the morning. kill me, i have school tomorrow.  
> My playlist for this trainwreck:
> 
> Hear Me - Imagine Dragons  
> Selene - Imagine Dragons  
> Hermit the Frog - Marina and the Diamonds
> 
> Yeah, just those three on repeat created this monster.


End file.
